SMV
by UnicornGiggles
Summary: CHAPTER 2 UP NOW - The Sexual Magnetism Virus takes its wicked toll on Lister and Rimmer. Lister/Rimmer
1. Chapter 1

**I wrote this in about an hour, can you tell? I've had the main parts of this story sat on my computer for ages and I was just suddenly inspired to write the beginning. So I think I'll just put it up and see if there are any positive reactions. This is going to be quite dark, dark is fun but quite depressing.**

**So here it is. Set when Lister pours the SMV onto Rimmer and all those inmates start to flirt with him. What happens afterwards? We shall see…**

**Not a one-shot, there is more. Although, this could work well as a one-shot. Leave it to your imagination, bwahahaha.**

* * *

Lister groaned as the fabric bit into his flesh. Tighter, tighter… He wove the tie around his ankle and the bed pole, tethering them as solidly as he could. There, he sighed finally. No way out, not without chewing his leg off. He stretched for the second tie, Rimmer's, that Lister had left on the floor – stupidly out of reach. He managed to snag it on the tips of his fingers and used it to tie his wrist to the other bed pole. He lay back, pleased by his work.

Rimmer walked in.

* * *

When Lister had played the prank on Rimmer – where he poured some of the sexual magnetism virus onto his shoulder whilst they were surrounded by large inmates – he never thought of the repercussions. That was what caused most of Lister's problems. He didn't think ahead all that well.

"How long does it take?"

"Does what take?"

The Cat rolled his eyes. "For the virus to wear off."

"Oh." That had been Lister's reply, before he became a blur heading in the direction of his cell. It would soon be time for all the inmates to return to their cells. To be locked in, until the guards decided that they deserved to be let out. Or it was time to eat. Whichever came first.

Locked in with Rimmer.

Lister slammed the door behind him, scanning the room desperately for some kind of rope. The guards were careful about these things. Anything that could be used to kill oneself, as criminals often did, had to be confiscated indefinitely. Luckily for Lister, Rimmer's ties had gone unnoticed. "Idiots, even I'd have thought of that," Lister grumbled, thankful anyway.

* * *

Lister froze as Rimmer walked in. He only saw the back of him, but somehow Lister could tell how pissed off he was. Rimmer ran a hand through his hair, sighing with extreme relief. A wave of warmth swept over Lister as he watched the alluring movement. There were no songs, no sonnets, no poems, no limerick even, to describe Lister's feelings. A lifetime of lust and forbidden urges poured out of every pore of his being and the ties began to saw a welt into his skin as he tried to wrench himself free.

Rimmer didn't hear the bed's squeaking as he pulled off his shirt angrily. That confounded shirt with the large, sticky pink stain, the only evidence he had against Lister. That bastard Lister. Oh, he had it coming to him, and Rimmer was going to make sure he got it. "Oooh yes, sonny-me-Jim-lad-son. You'll be laughing on the other side of your face." It was a weak vow, but Rimmer didn't have a great track record for keeping threats. He turned and threw the shirt onto the lower bunk, hitting Lister square in the stomach.

Lister didn't mind. Rimmer could do whatever he wanted.

Rimmer stared at him, the anger still simmering inside. Well, he had thrown a shirt at him, that was a start. "Lister, do you have ANY idea what…" The words wouldn't come, and Rimmer had to simply huff furiously to give his sentence some finite resolution.

Lister could only gaze at him in his sad desire, tenderly gathering up Rimmer's shirt in the hopes of the faintest scent of him.

"What on Io are you doing?" Rimmer scowled at Lister as he buried his face into the shirt fondly. If Lister had been in a normal state of mind, or body, he'd have snapped at Rimmer for being so slow. And then it dawned on Rimmer.

"Ah…"

He stepped backwards a little.

"LOCKS ON!" a voice thundered from down the hallway.

"Please, no…" The pneumatic rush of clicks echoed around the entire floor as the doors locked in unison. And suddenly Rimmer was cast into some strange parallel world with no way out, except to wait for morning.

Something Lister was not willing to do.


	2. Chapter 2

_I haven't bothered titling these chapters for once. Maybe I will later on in the day. But for now it's what you've probably waiting for – smecksing :P_

_On this note, reviews would be nice. I've had many views of this story so don't all lie and say you're doing NaNoWriMo (which I am too, but lagging miserably)._

_Also I reference the Floor 13 outfit as being in two parts – shirt and trousers. Upon re-watching the episode I realise it is probably an all-in-one jumpsuit. But ssssh, details are not important._

_***_

The outer lights dimmed, signalling the end of the day. The swift tip-tap of steel boot meeting floor sounded briefly as a guard marched past Rimmer and Lister's cell door. Rimmer stood, masked in shadow and outlined by the pale yellow light of the corner lamp.

Rimmer's visual was clearer, facing away from the light and following the beams as they settled onto Lister's wide-eyed face. He blinked, trying to make Rimmer out.

"Lister, I'm going to go wash this stuff off. When I come back, you'll be normal. Good? Good."

Rimmer turned on his heel. So far so good – Lister had the sense to tie himself down. All Rimmer had to do was go to the bathroom and-

He turned back. Was there a reason, Rimmer asked himself. No, not really. He had felt eyes burning into the back of his head. But then, he knew that was Lister. Who else would it have been? He even knew why. And yet he had turned back.

Lister was still staring at him. But… there was something different. That look, that expression, Rimmer thought. Is it softer? Sweeter, perhaps.

_What the hell are you thinking!_

Rimmer shook his head.

_Lister has always had a sweet face._

_What_?

Lister struggled on the bunk as Rimmer shuffled cautiously, eagerly, nearer. Rimmer's shirt fell from Lister's lap. The shirt with the virus on, Rimmer realised slowly. The shirt and its purple residue had left its mark on Lister's smooth thigh.

"What a mess," Rimmer sighed, dutifully cleaning the sticky flesh with his tongue.

Lister released a long overdue sigh. "About smegging time you joined in."

"Sorry," he replied, clambering onto Lister, his mouth and tongue putting a stop to any more smart remarks that might have followed. Lister's free hand explored Rimmer's vest, fumbling underneath. Rimmer sat back, pulling Lister's trousers and underwear down, leaving them stuck on his tethered leg. His own were next and Lister groaned impatiently as Rimmer lifted his rear onto his lap.

Position-wise there was only one choice. Rimmer spat into his hand and rubbed the end of his cock, trying to gain a little lubrication. With a little persuasion he pushed himself into Lister's writhing body and he began to pound violently. Lister yelled from pleasure only, the virus numbing all feelings of pain and guilt and disgust that may have been present.

Rimmer held Lister onto his lap and continued to push deep into him, the harder the better and the faster he went the more Lister cried out. The sensation was a drug and he couldn't get enough of Lister's moans – the oxygen to his flames of passion.

Rimmer's back arched and glistened as he thrust: his head buried between Lister's neck and the pillow. Finally he threw his head back as he came and came hard, collapsing into Lister's warm arms and thanked by a barrage of soft kisses.

***

It felt like waking up, thought Lister later as he reflected on the moment the virus wore off. It was quick and yet slow. There was a brief moment where he wasn't sure what state he was in. He lay for a moment unsure where he was. Unsure what the last thing he remembered was.

"Rimmer!" Lister bolted upright and yelped as pain shot through his lower back. He fell back, whimpering and turned his head. Rimmer sat on the side of the bed. The blanket draped over his shoulders hiding his face, and he huddled with it, tightly gripping the corners in his hands.

Abruptly he stood, wrapping the blanket around further.

"Rimmer…"

He said nothing, but walked solemnly to the bathroom.

"Rimmer, wait! At least untie me, you sm-"

Rimmer lifted a pair of scissors from a drawer and pushed them across the floor before retreating to the bathroom. Lister leaned cautiously out of the bed, his fingers clawing desperately at the scissors. He finally managed to edge close enough to flip them closer, and he began to saw through the ties feverishly.


End file.
